In Sophie Laguna’s The Underworld we accompany Martha, a 14-year-old teenager living in Australia in the early 1970s as she moves from high school to university. Her life consists of a love of classical history, her school friends and family. Martha is at that difficult age, where everything around you is changing and you are not sure if you are the reason or a passenger. What compounds Martha’s situation is that does not fit into the accepted pathway for young women in the 1970s. Swooning over teenage heart throbs and planning who, how and when you will get married are not Martha’s vibe, she wants something more and there is no book that explains how to achieve that.
Martha, as the main character, is wonderful, she is flawed, a teenager not capable of grasping the obvious signals, completely wrapped in her world and is anxious about how she is perceived. Martha’s safety is books and Roman mythology. The relationships that circle around Martha are beautifully nuanced. The family dynamics is wonderfully explored but allows you to form your own opinions. Janet, Martha’s mother, is aloof and seeming not to care. As the story unfolds the reasons for the strain slowly emerge, with a couple of really touching moments. However, that lack of dialogue between mother and daughter means Martha finds herself directionless when it comes to physical changes and affairs of the heart. Martha turns to textbooks, as you can imagine 1970s advice was rather polarising. Her father Andrew is mostly absent due to work, he is driven to be the best provider, believing material success is providing for the family. One of the biggest influences is Babs, her grandmother. Babs is old school and gives Martha both good and bad advice, she is a product of her time where marriage is about position and security has little to do with love.
Martha’s schoolfriends are her real security and represent a true family. They provide unconditional support and help Martha navigate the trials and tribulations of being a teenager. Her strongest bond is with Valerie, is truly central to the story, there is a tenderness as these two young women, from vastly different backgrounds find commonality, and a special kinship.
It has been a while since I have delved into my classical history, but in Martha’s story smatterings of Persephone, especially towards the end are there. Especially when Martha descends into the deepest of despair but is saved by her female relatives and friends. I might be drawing a long bow, but it resonated.
Laguna really captures the early 1970s, with the constraints of being a woman in Australia and how the emergence of women’s rights is taking shape. Subtly placed in the novel are questions around identity, belonging, connections and what is considered ‘normal’ for a woman to aspire to. The joy is in Martha’s story as you go through the journey as a silent friend and experience the heart-warming and traumatic moments, as she explores connections and identity.
It would be easy to push this into a simple coming of age story, but it is so much more than that. Laguna is a master of layering in complexity to the characters, their connections, interactions and beliefs. It is a glorious read to lose yourself in.
Thanks to Penguin Random House Australia and NetGalley.